


I need somebody (to call my own)

by OfTheDirewolves



Series: Welcome to the Hoard [1]
Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Cupid Eliot Waugh, Dragon Margo Hanson, Hedge Witch Quentin Coldwater, Kady Orloff-Diaz & Eliot Waugh - Freeform, M/M, Minor Kady Orloff-Diaz/Julia Wicker, Minor Margo Hanson/Alice Quinn, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Quentin Coldwater's Canonical Oral Fixation, Quentin playing push, Vampire Alice Quinn, idiots to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:40:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27448030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OfTheDirewolves/pseuds/OfTheDirewolves
Summary: Hedge Quentin stumbles into a coffee shop owned by two fantastical creatures and his world changes forever.... a coffee shop au with a twist!orwhat happens when a cupid and a hedge witch fall in love?
Relationships: Margo Hanson & Eliot Waugh, Quentin Coldwater & Margo Hanson, Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh
Series: Welcome to the Hoard [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2005366
Comments: 11
Kudos: 81
Collections: The Magicians Harvest Spectacular





	I need somebody (to call my own)

**Author's Note:**

> This was going to be a short supernatural/creature coffee shop AU…. And then it grew plot…. Now it’s a verse
> 
> It might have taken me a year but I FINISHED IT.. and just in time too!
> 
> Thanks to Kate for looking over it and being my sounding board, to El and Lenna for being enablers, and to Aud and everyone who helped when I got stuck..
> 
> (Also blame Lenna for the fact that this is a verse now)
> 
> There are two OCs mentioned in this fic which are Freya Carter and Amelia (Amy) Lucas.
> 
> Title comes from "Somebody to You" by Banners  
> Freya is Maisie Richardson-Sellers  
> Amy is Meghan Ory

* * *

There is a coffee shop in New York City that caters to a very exclusive clientele. It’s not your usual coffee shop like Starbucks or The Coffee Bean. It’s not made for muggles after all. All they see when they enter is a normal café with nothing out of the ordinary.

Not as expensive as a Starbucks and the coffee is decent. But to those that have their eyes open, it’s a world of imagination.

From its particular owners to its particular products, you have to open your eyes to truly see.

Eliot Waugh and Margo Hanson were inseparable from the moment they met. Despite the fact that they’re different beings. Who would ever think that a cupid and a dragon would get along so well? But from the start, they knew that together they would be unstoppable; after all their parties were legendary. And what better way to prove this than by opening a business together?

So they created _The Hoard_. A haven for any and all creatures to sit back and relax from a long day. Or well that’s how it started.

Eliot Waugh is the best at what he does — he’s quite good at picking up on people’s desires and their romantic interests. He’s also a phenomenal cook. So Margo got the idea of putting both of his talents together, which means that now, part of their café’s charm is the extras included.

Do you want to know if a person is right for you? The cupcakes could clear that up.

Do you want to know if your lover is cheating on you? Just buy him a coffee and if it turns red then you’re not the only one warming their bed.

Eliot handles the food, Margo handles the business side and Kady works for them. Kady is a siren who Margo came across one night while she was prowling the town. She had walked into a pool hall late at night to see a lot of commotion. So she’d gotten closer to see what was going on. A gorgeous woman was apparently beating everyone at their own game.

It had been so long since she’d seen a siren in person. So she’d challenged her for a game. Dragons were immune to other abilities — a casualty of being the oldest beings in the world. She’d been a worthy opponent, so she’d offered Kady a job.

Months later and the three of them work together effortlessly. Let it be known that Margo does not like change. Well, the world can change but as long as her people don’t change that’s fine. The most change she’ll allow is for Alice Quinn who has been coming in and out of her life for years. But that’s a constant thing. They both like it that way.

Margo hates emotions — ironic considering her best friend is a cupid. But it’s true. If she was a creature who liked emotions she’d say that she and Alice love each other. But they both understand that sometimes space is needed. They have all the time in the world after all — Alice is a vampire which means that like Margo she’ll live forever.

Three months ago a hedge witch followed his demigoddess best friend into her café and even though Margo hadn’t known it at the time, that’s when everything irrevocably changed.

* * *

It's a normal day; Margo is off while Kady is at the register and Eliot's in the back making a batch of cupcakes.

Then Julia Wicker, demigoddess extraordinaire, walks in.

“Eliot I’m taking my break,” Kady shouts and before Eliot could tell her no she is out the door. Eliot runs out of the back just in time to see it shut behind her.

“Fucking sirens,” he mutters as he telekinetically puts the ‘back in ten minutes’ sign on the door.

He is in the back carrying a tray of cupcakes when he hears the door open and the bell chimes.

“We’re closed — come back in 15 minutes,” Eliot mutters, not looking up as he goes to the front of the store.

“I’m sorry, I don’t want to bother you, I'm just looking for my friend?”

Eliot looks up to see the cutest guy he has seen in a very long time. The tray wobbles but thankfully he catches it in time. That could have been a disaster considering he has been baking all morning. He puts it down on the counter and walks to the other side where the guy is staring at him nervously.

Eliot is aware he is shamelessly looking him up and down but oh well. It’s not everyday cute nerds walk into his café.

“I’m the only one here right now.”

The guy has a nervous energy that is practically vibrating off of him. He watches the guy take out his phone and curse.

“This is where she said she was going to be.”

“If you give me more details and maybe a name I could perhaps help,” Eliot replies. “I’m Quentin, Quentin Coldwater,” Quentin says, stretching out his hand for Eliot to shake, which of course he does.

“I’m Eliot, one of the owners of this establishment,” Eliot says.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Quentin says with a shy smile.

“The pleasure is all mine trust me,” Eliot answers and Quentin blushes. He has such a lovely shade of pink that Eliot wonders if it goes all the way down.

“But actually I meant what is your friend’s name – I can tell you if I know them.”

“Oh right,” Quentin says as he puts a hand through his hair, which gives Eliot a view of the hedge stars on his arm.

Hedge Witch — now that’s interesting. They didn’t usually wander into the café.

“Her name is Julia? Julia Wicker,” Quentin says and Eliot groans.

“Oh yes, brunette demigoddess,” Eliot says, taking a seat at one of the tables and motioning for Quentin to take a seat with him, after considering it for a few moments, Quentin sits down.

“I know she’s good-looking but demigoddess I think that’s —,” Quentin laughs nervously.

“You don’t know where you are, do you?” Eliot asks curiously, this nerd gets cuter by the moment.

“A Café in Manhattan?” Quentin asks confused and Eliot just laughs.

“This is _the Hoard_ ; it's a café that caters exclusively to a specific clientele.” “Meaning?”

“Muggles — to use one of your terms — can’t see us,” Eliot explains. “They can walk into the café alright, but they won’t see anything out of the ordinary and well our products don’t work for them. Actually our products might repel them — a nifty trick Kady learned.”

“How do you know I’m not a muggle?” Quentin asks, and this is officially the weirdest conversation he’s had today.

“You have three hedge stars on your arm — well that I can see at least. And you came here looking for Wicker who is a bit of a thorn in my side.”

“You know Julia?”

“She keeps flirting with Kady, who normally works the cash register. But whenever Julia appears she always takes an extra-long break leaving me to do everything. She only does it on Margo’s days off which is extra annoying,” Eliot complains. They are always gone the same amount of time and come back acting all innocent — as if Eliot didn’t know what they were doing. He practically invented it.

“Yeah, she and Kady have been spending a lot of time together,” Quentin mutters.

“You have a crush,” Eliot states.

“What?”

“On Julia I mean. Your emotions towards her are bundled, I could clear those up for you if you’d like,” Eliot offers, it isn’t particularly clear, so he’s not sure but that’s the obvious option.

“You can read my emotions?” Quentin asks..

“I can pick up on people’s romantic desires and the like,” Eliot says.

“How?”

“Easy — I’m a cupid,” Eliot says.

“A cupid?” Quentin asks incredulously, he’d had no idea cupids even existed.

“What did you expect? A chubby angel with a bow and arrow?” Eliot remarks with a smirk that makes Quentin laugh.

“I just found out magic is real about 2 years ago — I’m not caught up with everything that exists just yet.”

“That’s because magicians normally keep to themselves. Some of them can be such a nag, so we quite like it that way,” Eliot says.

Quentin just laughs at that, “A bit yeah.”

Eliot floats one of the newer cupcakes toward the table. “It’s on the house.”

“What exactly is it?” Quentin asks. “Because one of the guys in the bodega once tried to do a love spell.”

“It’s not a love potion — I don’t do that. It’s really creepy and frankly? It has so many consent issues. No, my work is different. I can’t create something that isn’t there. My specialty products only help clear things up.”

“So love potions don’t work?” Quentin asks with a mischievous look in his eye that made Eliot feel like he’s messing with him.

“Let’s put it this way — even the best master magician in the world would not be able to make someone fall in love with them. Love is a complicated emotion. You don’t always choose who you fall in love with that’s for sure but at one point you chose to let them into your life. Potions take away that element so it doesn’t stick. The most you could get if you attempted it is a stomach ache but the Harry Potter movies made everyone believe that love potions are a real thing,” Eliot says not realizing he’s gone on a full rant until Quentin is staring at him with an amused expression.

“Sorry — I just have a lot of thoughts about love spells and love potions.”

“Don’t apologize — I liked it,” Quentin says which earns him a smile from Eliot.

They stare at each other in silence, as if trying to figure each other out. Quentin looks like he’s going to say something when they hear the bell on the door ring and the moment is broken.

“Sorry boss — lunch ran a little late. They took ages getting our order,” Kady says shamelessly.

“Sure — _your order,_ ” Eliot rolls his eyes which makes Quentin smile. “Get back to work before I fire you.”

“As if you would Waugh,” Kady retorts, and they both know he wouldn’t. Kady is one of Margo’s people now, and she is very protective of the ones she calls her own.

It’s a dragon thing.

“Q, what are you doing here?” Julia asks, noticing her oldest friend at the table.

“We were supposed to meet remember?” Quentin answers.

“Sorry I got distracted,” Julia says slightly sheepish.

“I can see that — it’s okay, Eliot kept me company,” Quentin says and Julia turns to Eliot as if she’s sizing him up.

“Wicker,” Eliot says

“We should go, we have things to do and I bet they’re busy. It's almost lunch rush,” Julia states, grabbing Quentin’s arm. Quentin rolls his eyes and gets up, but not before grabbing the cupcake.

“Thanks for the cupcake,” Quentin says.

“Hope I’ll see you around soon,” Eliot answers and Quentin smiles back as he leaves with Julia.

* * *

Quentin keeps coming around for the next few weeks, each time with a different excuse. No matter what time of day he comes in, Eliot always seats with him, and they talk while Kady rolls her eyes from the cash register.

One day it looks like he isn’t coming in and Eliot is trying to not be affected by it.

After all, it’s just a hedge witch.

“Looking at the door won’t make him suddenly appear,” Kady says, not even looking up from her magazine just as Eliot throws another not too subtle look at the door.

“Are you waiting for someone?” Margo asks curiously.

“He’s looking out for his hedge,” Kady replies.

“Your hedge?” Margo turns to look at Eliot.

“He’s not _my hedge,_ he's just a hedge who comes in from time to time,” Eliot replies, trying to downplay it. He knows his Bambi — she would read too much into it.

“Yeah and every time he comes in no matter what you’re doing you find a way to drop by his table,” Kady points out.

“It’s part of being a good owner and chef,” Eliot says.

“Sure it is,” Kady mutters.

“I want to meet this hedge,” Margo declares in a way that leaves no room for argument. Then she leaves for her downstairs office.

Eliot immediately glares at Kady as if to say, _now you've done it._

“I didn’t know it was a big secret,” Kady says.

“It’s not — I just didn’t feel like throwing him at the literal dragon that is my best friend.”

“You never know she might decide she likes him,” Kady says, “Coldwater has that special kind of charm… or, so I hear.”

Eliot doesn't dignify that with a response, just goes to the back to check on his latest batch of cupcakes. About forty minutes later he comes back to find Kady and Margo arguing about something, but he has an idea and doesn't care what they're fussing about.

“You look like you’re plotting something,” Margo says, giving him a suspicious look.

"I'm going to have a birthday party," Eliot announces.

“Do you even have a birthday?” Kady asks confused.

"Everyone else gets one, why shouldn't I?" Eliot responds.

Kady smirks. "If you're going to have a birthday it should be on Valentine's Day — it would be very fitting."

“You know I can still fire you,” Eliot argues, "Valentine's Day is made up by Hallmark and Corporations.”

“Hey don’t diss — we always make a killing that week,” Margo says and her eyes flash like they do when she thinks about money, it’s a dragon thing. February as a whole is a good time for business when your business partner is a cupid and a lot of your products are relationship-based.

“Fine yes it’s a good week for business but it would be very gauche to make my birthday on Valentine's Day,” Eliot says.

“You might have a point,” Margo relents.

“So then when is your birthday, oh great one,” Kady asks.

“October 30th I think being a Scorpio would fit me — I’ve done the research and it is the most me.”

“It is,” Margo agrees.

“And this way we can throw a Halloween party,” Eliot tells Margo who looks at him, excited. “I’m listening.”

“Remember those parties we used to throw? How delightful they were?”

“They were always the talk of the town — any town,” Margo smirks.

It’s true — in their heyday Margo and Eliot threw the most luxurious of parties. It’s how they learned they worked so well together. Their tastes were similar and their ideas complemented each other quite well. It’s been quite some time since they've done a party.

Perhaps it had been around 1970, 1980? The years blended together for Eliot at times.

“Rules are more strict nowadays though,” Margo points out.

“As if that has ever bothered you before,” Eliot says.

“No — but if it’s going to be your birthday from now one we’ll celebrate it as such and that means not getting caught up in bureaucratic nonsense.”

“It doesn’t have to be as sizable as they used to be,” Eliot says, “We’ll just use the bodega and put protection spells to keep muggles from wandering in.”

“We’d need magicians for that.”

“I know of a few and I’m sure Kady and her girlfriend will help,” Eliot says, not leaving room for argument.

“Fine — I’ll call Jules,” Kady agrees.

“Splendid!” Eliot says and looks at Margo who finally relents.

“We’ll do the party on October 30th, invitation only, I’m inviting my kitty cat of course — you’ll deal with the decorations and spells while I do the guest list.”

“So is that a yes?” Eliot asks

“It sounded like a yes,” Kady replies smiling.

And then Margo just rolls her eyes at them — days like these she doesn’t know why she’s so fond of the two of them but damn… she is.

“Yes it’s a yes — of course we’ll celebrate you darling,” Margo says, “Now get back to work.”

* * *

The day starts out how it usually does for Quentin. He gets up, gets dressed, makes a pot of coffee for James, grabs his keys and goes to The Hoard. He orders a coffee and a bagel as Kady smirks at him but doesn’t say anything about it.

Then he sits down to read or work on things — whatever he’s brought with him that day.

“Do you have a job?” Eliot asks not even bothering with hellos as he takes the seat in front of Quentin.

“I.. uh.. sort of?” Quentin says slightly amused, is this Eliot’s way of asking why he is always here?

“Well?”

“I mend things — my discipline is Repair of Small Objects.. or well it would have been if I’d been at Brakebills for more than 2 months.”

“You were at Brakebills?” Eliot asks, surprised.

“Is that surprising?”

“You don’t quite fit the usual mold of Brakebills..”

Quentin thinks about it for a moment, then smiles, “No I guess I don’t — I have this thing where uh... my brain breaks sometimes? And I get those feelings and ideas and well it’s not pretty…” Quentin trails off, Eliot doesn’t need to know all that does he?

“I doubt there’s anything of you that isn’t pretty.”

Quentin tries to hide his blush as he smiles into his coffee, “Anyway — for a bit there I thought that magic would cure it but that’s not really how things work is it?”

“I’m not sure my experience can be the same as yours but from what I’ve observed no ... it’s not,” Eliot says truthfully, “Magic at times just complicates things.”

“It does,” Quentin says staring at Eliot, “Well I stopped taking my meds on the first day and then shit happened and I realized that my problem was very much still there magic or no magic... and that an institution that relies on me being in pain or following their idiotic ableist norms in order to be a part of it was not a place I wanted to be.. so I got out.”

“How did you avoid the memory swipe?”

“I had an Emerson’s in my pocket,” Quentin smirks and Eliot actually laughs delightedly.

“Brilliant.”

“I got lucky — I stumbled into a pretty good coven and I’ve been there ever since. Back on my meds even.”

“The ones you take with your bagel.”

Quentin looks momentarily surprised, “Yeah those — magic can’t cure clinical depression but there’s potions designed to help with the side effects.”

Eliot is staring at him again and Quentin never knows what the cupid sees. And then Eliot is calling him brave and it throws Quentin off yet again.. He always seems to do that.

“I’m not that brave,” Quentin says blushing again.

“Not many would refuse Brakebills like that — you put your health over magic not knowing if it would be the end to your discovery of magic. On the contrary it’s very brave.”

“Anyway you mentioned a job?” Quentin says changing the subject.

“Oh yes — how good are you with wards?”

“I’m decent,” Quentin lies, “but I’ve got a friend who basically specializes in them.”

Suddenly he hears Penny in his head, _Decent? You’re terrible at wards Coldwater._ He’s not as bad as he used to be so that’s got to count for something…. Right??

“I’m having a birthday party.”

“Aren’t you like a thousand?” Quentin asks, amused.

“It’s rude to comment on a person's age you know — plus I’m much older than that,” Eliot smirks, “You adapt your perception of time when you’re like me.”

Quentin laughs, “Oh how rude of me.”

“Very.”

“Tell me more about this birthday party.”

“Well it’s gonna be the party of the season.”

“I don’t think there’s much competition.”

“You’re such a brat.”

Quentin just smirks because Eliot seems to like it when he’s a brat.

“Anyway I need magicians or hedges either really — to help put up the wards and protections to make sure muggles don’t wander in.”

“Isn’t this place already pretty warded?”

“Oh Q — it’s obviously not going to be here,” Eliot says fondly.

“Then where will it be?”

“I’ll take you.”

“So you’ve already made up your mind about me doing this.”

“Well of course you are — and you can bring your expert friend. You can even bring your friends.”

“Oh can I?” Quentin looks amused.

Quentin hopes that Amy is at the bodega today because he’s in desperate need of some wards help if he doesn’t want to look like a fool in front of Eliot.

“The more the merrier,” Eliot says.

Quentin just rolls his eyes as he finishes his bagel and coffee. He stands up and looks at Eliot

“So I’ll see you at closing and you can show me where your party will be.”

“Sounds like a plan — see you later Coldwater.”

“See you later Waugh.”

Eliot watches him leave and there’s a snort from behind him once Quentin is out the door and out of earshot.

“Anything to say Kady?”

“I’m just thinking it’s curious how you wanted a party now that’s all,” Kady smirks.

“I just felt like it.”

“Right and doing it somewhere you’d have to get help from hedges is a coincidence right?” Kady says hitting the nail in the head.

“Of course.”

“Of course,” Kady agrees.

“Shut up.”

“You’ve got it boss.”

Well if he wants to come up with an excuse to spend more time with a certain hedge who could blame him?

_Have you seen Quentin’s ass?_

* * *

Quentin couldn’t believe he did that, why did he have to lie? He sucked at wards. He could barely do his own wards and that was with a lot of help.

He’s almost certain if he tried to ward a place it would not go smoothly. And so now he is trying to read as many things as possible in about 5 or 6 hours.

He could do this right?

He could definitely do this!

(He could not do this)

“You look like a Vulcan trying to describe emotions.”

Quentin looks up to see Freya with her arms crossed looking at him in confusion.

Freya had been one of his first friends in the coven — she had actually been the one to bring him in, to begin with. She’d said he looked like a lost cat and that it was her duty as a veterinarian to find him a home.

(Her girlfriend Amy had joked that Freya liked bringing in strays — they just usually weren’t the human kind).

“I might need help with a few things,” Quentin admits.

Freya takes a seat next to Quentin moving a strand of her naturally curly dark hair behind her ear before looking at the books.

“Wards? Is Penny giving you trouble again?”

Penny was Quentin's old roommate from Brakebills, he’d been the one to tell him about the Emersons — well _technically_. Quentin had stolen it from him. But while Quentin had become a hedge, Penny had actually graduated from Brakebills.

They are friends now — _sort of._

“Not this time,” Quentin says

“Then why are you looking up stuff about wards?”

“You know _The Hoard?_ ” Quentin asks and Freya looks unimpressed.

“The café owned by the cute cupid you have a crush on?” Freya asks

“I don’t have a crush —,” Quentin starts but Freya just stares.

“Sure you don’t — you just go for the coffee even though you make better coffee on your own.”

Quentin tries to argue but as always it’s useless arguing with Freya.

“I’ve tasted your coffee and it’s divine so there’s no way you’re going because of the coffee, you’re not having relationship issues so you don’t need the extras, which leaves only one reason for the fact that you go pretty much every day…. so what’s the problem?”

“I told him I was decent at wards.”

That of course sets Freya off and she starts laughing.

“Oh, you dumb bisexual.”

“Yeah I know — but he was asking and I just.. you know how it is,” Quentin says.

“Oh do I ever,” Freya says, and Quentin knows she’s remembering how she and Amy had met.

Apparently Freya kept going to a shitty coffee shop near to her pet store because that’s where Amy seemed to hang out — only to find that Amy only went there to catch a glimpse of Freya. Quentin still thinks that’s an adorable meet-cute.

“Here’s what we’ll do — I’ll show you a bit of the basics for warding buildings and then Amy and I will go with you.”

“You will?” Quentin asks.

“Of course — what are friends for… plus I’m dying to meet the cupid, I’ve never met a cupid you know?”

Quentin snorts but smiles at Freya who pushes most of the books aside. Maybe he wouldn’t make a complete fool of himself.

* * *

Eliot is closing up shop when he sees a car arrive.

Two women come out of it, both unfairly gorgeous. One has dark skin and curly hair, dressed in a yellow sweater and black leather pants. The other is a white brunette in army green jeans and a blue denim shirt with rolled-up sleeves over a white shirt. And a lot of necklaces.

Behind them is exactly who he wants to see...

_Quentin._

“Quentin! You made it..”

“I said I would,” Quentin says with that soft smile of his.

“And you brought friends.”

“Yeah — you said I could.”

“I did... aren’t you going to introduce us?”

“What? Oh... yeah... right..” Quentin laughs a bit and blushes. That blush is becoming one of Eliot’s favorite things.

He really needs to find out if it’s a full-body thing.

“This is Amelia — Amy — Lucas and Freya Carter.”

“Eliot Waugh at your service,” Eliot says, kissing their hands in greeting.

Off to the side, Eliot spots Quentin rolling his eyes.

“Amy is an illusionist who specializes in wards and portals,” Quentin says smiling at the woman in denim.

“Fascinating,” Eliot says and turns to Freya, “And you?”

“I’m a little bit of everything,” Freya says and Eliot notices she is looking at him as if trying to size him up.

As he said, _fascinating_.

“Freya doesn’t believe in disciplines,” Amy says

“So where exactly is this place?” Freya asks

“It’s a few blocks from here — of a sorts,” Eliot says with a mischievous smile.

“What do you mean?” Quentin asks curiously.

“You’ll see,” Eliot says grabbing Quentin’s hand and pulling him along.

They walk for two blocks until they reach a seemingly abandoned building and go down the steps.

They reach a door and Eliot turns to Amy, “I think you’ll find this particularly intriguing Miss Lucas.”

And then he does a design on the door and it starts glowing a sort of pinkish red.

He opens the door and they’re in a different place altogether.

“I’ve read about portals like that but I’ve never actually seen one in person,” Amy says

“That one, in particular, is keyed to my magical signature so only I can open it.”

“That’s incredible.”

“I’d love to have a conversation with you about the differences in the portal magic — but another day perhaps?”

“I’d like that,” Amy says with a twinkle in her eye. Her girlfriend is staring at him again, but he just winks at her.

These two women are clearly important to Quentin, so he’ll try to get them to like him.

Quentin smirks at him.

“What?”

“Your magical signature is pink and red — I thought you said it was all an exaggeration.”

“Well, perhaps even the tallest tales have a sliver of truth in them.”

“There’s also the fact that he got drunk once and showed some magic and so the rumors spread,” Kady says

Eliot rolls his eyes, “One of these days I’m going to fire you.”

“He’s been saying that for years now,” Kady tells the trio.

“Anyway this is where the party is going to be, we’ll have a magical entrance coming from a club we own in Manhattan... We need something to complement Kady’s magic so that muggles don’t come in.”

“Unless they already know of magic,” Kady says

“Yes that is the rule — but honestly the party is invitation only, so we don’t think that’s gonna be the case here but still want to be cautious.”

“Invitation only?” Quentin asks

“Don’t worry you’re already on the list,” Eliot says smirking at him and then looks at the girls, “and so is your coven if they want to come.”

Kady just rolls her eyes at him but as usual, Eliot ignores her.

“We also need protective wards so that people who mean to harm someone at the party aren’t allowed in.”

“Eliot hates when people decide to fight at one of his parties.”

“One time during the 20s prohibition was all the rage as were flapper dresses… A werewolf came into one of my little soirées with a stake to kill a vampire. They got into a fight in the middle of the party and destroyed my bar… Margo banned them for life — well the one that survived anyway,” Eliot says nonchalantly.

“The one that survived?” Freya asks

“Margo might have gone full dragon to stop the fighting, and she hates going full dragon,” Eliot points out.

“Basically of the four people fighting two were killed by each other, one was well dragon snack and only the last lived to tell the tale,” Kady says

“She didn’t eat him — she just charred him up… a little,” Eliot smirks, “Bambi has refined tastes; she doesn’t eat just anyone.”

“Well if you go into a dragon’s territory and pick a fight you kind of get what’s coming to you — unless you’re the hobbits because technically Smaug was in their territory, not the other way around.”

Eliot just stares at him in wonder which Quentin apparently misinterprets.

“I’m just saying Erebor belonged to the dwarves for much longer than the time Smaug occupied it, so they were within their rights to take it back.”

Eliot just smiles at him, he is such a nerd it is positively adorable and enchanting. Eliot has no idea what the fuck he is talking about but Quentin looks so passionate it’s endearing.

“I just… the point is that if you infringe on a dragon’s territory you kind of have to deal with the consequences,” Quentin says nervously.

“Basically… and my Bambi is not one to suffer fools, not to mention she really hates werewolves.”

“Of course she does, her longtime off and on girlfriend is a vampire and there’s the whole mortal enemy business,” Kady says.

“So I’m guessing those myths are true too?” Quentin asks

“Sort of — there’s a lot of different kinds of werewolves,” Kady says, “Shifters are great, and they basically don’t bother people. Some are even best friends with vampires, they can change at will. Then there’s the more mythological werewolves who are just humongous dicks.”

“With tiny dicks — a lot of overcompensating there,” Eliot interjects.

“They actually are tied to the full moon, their bite is only infectious on the day before the full moon and on the full moon. It’s not a permanent thing or well it doesn’t have to be but the cure is very complicated and if it’s done wrong could lead to more trouble,” Kady explains.

“So basically stay out werewolf haunts during the full moon?” Quentin asks.

“Pretty much,” Eliot says.

“Then there are the ones that people think of when they think of werewolves because they’re more aligned with what the media says. They’re a bit more like shifters in that they do turn into an actual wolf but unlike shifters, they’re more pack oriented… and yes there’s alpha, betas, and omegas but it’s not what you’re imagining,” Kady says

Quentin just laughs, “I didn’t say anything.”

“Yeah, but you were thinking it.”

“Can sirens read minds now?” Quentin says cheekily.

“No, but you’re not the first nerd I’ve encountered.”

“Why are we talking about wolves?” Eliot asks.

“Just curiosity,” Quentin says quickly and Kady snorts.

They get interrupted by Julia’s arrival.

“So glad you could finally join us, Wicker,” Eliot says.

“Hey, I had to go the long way because someone wouldn’t share their secret portal with me,” Julia says before giving her girlfriend a kiss.

“Well, the point was that you had to find it so you could map out the journey remember?” Eliot smirks.

Julia ignores him and sees the trio.

“Q! Didn’t think I’d see you here.”

“Eliot asked for my help,” Quentin says.

“Of course he did,” Julia says, “And you brought the girls.”

“Well you know no one is better at wards than my girl here,” Freya says.

“You all know each other great — why don’t you girls get to work and Quentin can help me out with something in the meantime.”

“Sure thing boss,” Kady says, directing them elsewhere and leaving the boys alone.

Which is exactly what Eliot wants.

“What do you need from me?” Quentin asks

Eliot bit back the automatic response to that question and just smiles.

“I want to run some ideas by you. “I’m not sure I’m the best person for that,” Quentin says.

“Nonsense, you’re perfect.”

* * *

Quentin can’t remember the last time he has had this much fun. Like learning about magic and finding the coven was great but nothing compares to the last two weeks.

He’s been working with Eliot in the bodega every day after the cafe closes, instead of going in early in the morning he goes more towards closing and then they walk together to the bodega. Watching Eliot do the portal spell never gets old.

The girls take different routes to get there and sometimes they come and something they don’t. Penny even shows up to help once — which is certainly interesting. He hasn’t met the mysterious Margo yet, but he’s curious about it.

Well, to be fair it’s not like he and Eliot have done much of the work. Eliot seems to enjoy “delegating” and calls it a part of being the boss. Quentin is just happy to be along for the ride. He’s been alive for so long, and he has so many stories that Quentin is just fascinated by everything he does.

Amy and Freya tease him about his crush, because well he’s self-aware enough to realize that the way he feels is definitely a crush. Even Penny seems to have noticed. Kady and Julia definitely know as well. But thankfully none of them say anything to the man in question.

Quentin knows that people think he should tell him but… He just — he likes Eliot’s friendship okay? And he’s pretty sure that’s all it’s ever going to be so why rock the boat? There’s no way someone like Eliot is going to be interested in a lowly hedge like Quentin. Not when he’s so worldly and amazing.

He had a crush on Julia when they were growing up and it — it blew up. He’s not sure if he and Jules ever fully recovered from that. Quentin had been an asshole and Julia had been an asshole and it had been a mess. It was right around the time Julia and James had broken up so that had been awful.

Julia had thought that Quentin needed to choose a side and Quentin had refused. James was his friend too, and at the time? Quentin hadn’t had many of those. So things had gotten strained even more. They’re okay now, and heading to a place that’s probably better than where they were but Quentin… Quentin still worries.

He and Julia have the whole lifelong friendship thing while he’d technically just met Eliot. Hell in Eliot’s lifespan Quentin isn’t even a blip. So no — Quentin is not going to do anything to jeopardize his friendship with Eliot.

Someone calls out his name and distracts Quentin from his musings. Eliot left the bodega a few minutes ago because “this is taking too long and I’m hungry Quentin” so he’d gone to make something to eat.

“Hey Coldwater since the boss is gone we’re taking a break with a little game of Push you in?” Kady asks.

“Sounds like fun,” Quentin says.

“Have you ever played Push?” Kady asks.

“A few times,” Quentin shrugs, he sees Freya smirk from behind Kady. He’s definitely played more than once or twice but that’s not for Kady to know.

He likes it when people underestimate him after all. And considering he hasn’t exactly shown his best hand when it comes to magic — he really is quite terrible at wards — he knows Kady isn’t expecting much.

And so he beats her — claiming beginner's luck.

There’s a look in Kady’s eye that says she doesn’t quite believe that but before she can say anything the door opens. He thinks it’s Eliot coming back but it’s not.

The woman that walks in is probably the most gorgeous woman he’s ever seen, and he might not be great at certain things, but he can feel the magic coming off of her.

The pure unadulterated _power_.

This must be the famous Margo.

“Well well well what do we have here?”

“Hey boss,” Kady says, “Surprised to see you here.”

“I was looking for Eliot and figured he was here since he’s always here these days,” Margo says.

“You just missed him,” Kady says.

“He left to get food,” Quentin says speaking up and Margo turns to look at him.

If he thinks that Eliot sometimes looks into his soul it’s nothing compared to the way Margo is looking at him. But he doesn’t back down. He stares at her just as much as she’s staring at him. If he’s not wrong she looks low-key impressed.

“Yeah, you know how he is,” Kady says, staring between them.

“Well then I’ll just have to wait for him to return won’t I?” Margo says and then extends a hand to Quentin, “I’m Margo.”

“Quentin Coldwater,” Quentin replies, shaking her hand.

“I know,” Margo says with a smirk as the flames in her eyes dance, “You’re playing Push? I’ll play — unless you don’t think you’re up to the task.”

_This is a test isn’t it?_

“Deal me in,” Quentin says, and so the game begins.

Playing with Kady he kept up the buffoon facade, this time he lets it drop. All bets are off when you’re playing against a dragon. And he figures Margo might appreciate the confidence more than the newbie performance.

He’s most definitely not a newbie.

Even before he discovered magic was real he’d been good at card games — nay, the best at card games. It was one of the few things Quentin Makepeace Coldwater was fully confident about. After Brakebills and everything one of the things that brought him comfort was finding out about Push.

He is not an uber-powerful hedge, he isn’t terrible by any means but usually, he isn’t the most powerful person in the room. He doesn’t mind that — maybe when he was younger he would have liked to be the chosen one but nowadays he finds that he likes his power level.

Push isn’t about who is the most powerful — it’s about who can cheat best.

Which is something that Quentin excels at.

But he’s never played against a dragon before — well, he's open to new experiences, right?

The game goes on for three rounds, and he’s pretty sure everyone stopped whatever they were doing just to watch. But for once Quentin isn’t focused on that. He’s just focused on playing the best game he can.

He wins the first round and then loses the second. So right now they’re on equal footing — whoever wins this hand wins the entire thing. Margo is cocky but he can tell there's something there, something almost impossible to spot. The only reason he sees it is that he’s been playing poker since he was around 8 years old and Molly taught him how to play as a way to try to bond with him.

It didn’t exactly work out in their favor, but he always appreciated the effort. She’d made more of an effort than his own mother but that’s neither here nor there.

Quentin palms the Ace of Cards and without breaking eye contact it’s the card he plays.

Margo’s card turns out to be a Queen of Diamonds which means — he has won the game.

She smiles at him what seems to be an actually genuine smile.

“I think that’s the first time I’ve lost a game in ages,” Margo admits.

“Well I do have some tricks up my sleeve I could teach you if you want,” Quentin says cheekily ignoring the fact that Margo could most definitely kill him.

Thankfully she seems more amused than offended.

“Do you have no sense of self-preservation?” Margo asks curiously.

“My best qualities include: being an asshole, close up magic, an extensive knowledge of fictional universes and being a depressed super-nerd... oh, and as you can tell I’m quite good at Push,” Quentin remarks, “But no — self-preservation doesn’t seem to be one of them.”

“I can see why he likes you — you’re a fascinating little nerd aren’t you?” Margo says with a smile.

“Well, I try.”

That’s when Eliot comes back — he puts the food on the table and then heads towards Quentin and Margo.

“Bambi — you didn’t mention you were coming.”

“That’s what surprises are for darling,” Margo says, “I’ve had a fascinating time with Quentin here.”

“Oh?” Eliot asks, if Quentin didn’t know any better he’d say that Eliot actually looks worried.

“He can stay,” Margo says and Quentin feels the atmosphere in the room lighten up as if it had been on edge since she had walked inside.

And Quentin feels like he passed a test he didn’t even fully realize he was taking. Eliot smiles in his direction and the butterflies in Quentin's stomach have a field day.

“Let’s go to your office — I have some guest list queries to look over with you.”

“Lead the way Bambi,” Eliot says, giving Quentin a final smile.

Kady heads over to where Quentin is and hands him one of the sandwiches that Eliot made, “Welcome to the family Coldwater.”

And all Quentin can do is smile back.

* * *

After that everything flows more easily. It’s like a weight has been lifted. Eliot is really glad that Margo seems to actually like Quentin because he’s not sure what he’d do if she didn’t.

No one wants a repeat of the _Mike_ situation after all. The less said about that the better.

The thing is that Margo doesn’t seem to just like Quentin, she seems to fully enjoy his company. There’s been a few times when he’s arrived at _The Horde_ to find Quentin and Margo deep in conversation. Despite outward appearances, Margo is a humongous nerd, just like Quentin, so they seem to have found a common ground in that. So there’s been quite a few arguments and conversations about topics that Eliot has no clue about.

Like Quentin has fully ingrained himself in Eliot’s life and Eliot — he’s not quite sure what to make of that if he is being honest.

He’s never — it’s never been like this.

Margo hated Mike from the first moment, as did Alice, and he was before Kady’s time. Then there was Idri. Margo always seemed amused by him but didn’t pay him much attention. She liked him and respected him but didn’t think of him outside of being one of Eliot’s lovers.

Outside of those two, Margo didn’t really bother with the people Eliot brought to his bed, unless of course, she was in the bed as well. That had happened quite a few times over the centuries, the two of them sharing a boy or two.

But Eliot isn’t even sleeping with Quentin (but oh he _wants_ to). They are just friends and nothing more. Yet Margo is making the effort. Well — Quentin is pretty special though, so he can’t exactly blame her for wanting to spend time with him.

“Hey, we were wondering where you’d run off to,” Quentin says smiling at Eliot.

“I was just checking up on the latest batch — it’s been fritzy,” Eliot says.

“You’re having performance issues?” Margo asks with a smirk, predictably Quentin goes red and Eliot rolls his eyes.

“Nothing like that, I think it’s my oven,” Eliot says.

“Is it broken?” Quentin asks.

“Maybe? Normally I just replace it,” Eliot says and Quentin snorts.

“That seems like a waste of money.”

“Oh, you have a better alternative?” Eliot asks.

“Yeah, I could try and fix it that way you don’t have to waste money on a brand-new one.”

“Anything that saves us money is good in my books,” Margo interjects.

“Do you have anywhere you need to be right now?” Eliot asks, and Quentin shakes his head.

“Well you boys have fun — I’m heading to the bodega to make sure everything is ready to go for the party at the end of the week,” Margo says and then leaves out the door.

Eliot closes up shop and looks at Quentin, “Ready to go?”

“Yeah — lead the way,” Quentin says, following Eliot through the back and going up the stairs, “Wait you live above the coffee shop?”

“Not quite,” Eliot says as he does one of his portals on the door in his office, and on the other side there’s a brownstone, “Portaling is easier than driving.”

“Where are we exactly?” Quentin asks

“We’re still in New York but more upstate — I got this place long before Margo and I decided to officially go into business together, it’s where I stayed whenever I was in town.”

“So you cross the closet whenever you need to go to the shop?” Quentin asks

“More or less — I mean there’s an apartment above the coffee shop for if any of us is working late you know? Or well if I’m working late, Margo sticks to her schedule, and Kady, well you’ve seen her. If she can get out early she will.”

Quentin laughs at that.

“This place is kind of like my sanctuary, where I can get away from everything you know?”

“Well, thanks for allowing me to visit,” Quentin says softly.

“Anyway…. , so I just realized I don’t actually know where you live,” Eliot says.

“Oh! I just share an apartment with my friend James.”

“Why does that name sound familiar?”

“He used to be engaged to Julia, but they broke up 2 years ago, around the time we discovered magic,” Quentin says.

“And you live with him?” Eliot asks, amused.

“He was technically my friend before he was Julia’s anything. He was my roommate freshman year of college. That’s how we met. I introduced him and Julia, and they started dating before long.”

“So your new friend and your crush started dating.”

Quentin nods, “They were a good couple at first, but then they just had different paths especially after Julia discovered magic. She was on the path to being a demigoddess, and we were kind of left behind.”

“Does he know about magic?”

“Oh he knows — he’s just not interested in it.”

“Fascinating,” Eliot says.

“You were wrong by the way — the day we met.”

“Oh was I?” Eliot asks bemusedly.

“I wasn’t jealous of Julia and Kady — I mean I did have a crush on Julia for a long time growing up but I have long since gotten over it. It was more puppy love than actual love you know?”

Not really — Eliot himself for all he knows about love has never been in love himself.

“My reaction was more about the fact that Julia asked me to meet her and then ran off with Kady,” Quentin admits.

“You thought you were getting left behind again.”

“It took us a while to get back to being close — and we’ll probably never be as close as when we were kids, but we’re taking it step by step.”

“I don’t remember much about my childhood and Margo was the first true friend I had…so I assume growing up with someone definitely leaves a mark,” Eliot says, and well he’s not technically lying, things about his childhood are fussy.

“It does,” Quentin says, “Maybe she doesn’t understand everything about me, but she was there during my darkest days so that counts.”

“I met Margo when I was still a young cupid. I was about 30 or so,” Eliot says, “We have been through a lot together, so I guess it’s similar in a way.”

“Probably — although human problems probably feel meaningless to you don’t they?”

“Not quite,” Eliot says, “Not when I … care about the human in question.”

That makes Quentin smile and Eliot smiles back. He’s very sure he’d go to the ends of the world for that smile.

“You wanted me to check your stove right?” Quentin asks

“Right,” Eliot says and leads the way towards the kitchen, “I’m not quite sure what’s wrong with it. Electricity and I aren’t always friends you see.”

Quentin smirks, “It’s nice knowing that you aren’t perfect at everything.”

He checks over the stove and fixes what needs to be fixed. Eliot is mesmerized watching him; Quentin is very particular about his magic. It’s all done with such care and wonder. Unlike anyone, he’s ever seen, and he’s seen a lot of magicians and hedges in the course of his long life.

“That should do it.”

“How does that work exactly?” Eliot asks

“I think you know more about ovens than I do — outside of certain breakfast foods I cannot really cook in the slightest bit.”

“Cheeky,” Eliot says, rolling his eyes, “I meant your magic.”

“Oh — it’s my discipline — I help objects remember what they were before. I just listen I guess and normally they tell me how they’re supposed to be. It’s like my magic helps them remember it. It’s not as cool as your telekinesis or Amy’s illusion stuff,” Quentin says, scratching behind his ear.

“On the contrary — I think it’s wonderful,” Eliot says.

“It’s just a minor mending,” Quentin shrugs.

“Your minor mending contributes to me being able to use my powers which means we have products to sell — which makes Margo happy — but other than that I like to believe my products help people. Maybe it helps them understand a little bit more about their lives and their emotions. But let’s not make this about me — picture a magic mirror.”

“How Snow White of you,” Quentin says.

“Shush are you picturing it?”

“I’m picturing it.”

“Magic mirrors are portals to different worlds, they are ways to connect with loved ones far away — human things like phones and receptions fail but as long as there’s magic then a magic mirror will work. When a mirror breaks it requires a mender does it not?”

“It does,” Quentin says.

“And if it’s a normal mirror then yeah maybe a regular magician can fix it but it won’t come as easy to them as it would to you would it?”

“No,” Quentin says softly.

“And that same magician might be the most powerful person in the world but if they’re not a mender then they can’t fix a magic mirror can they?”

Quentin shakes his head.

“But you can — your magic is special Quentin just like you,” Eliot says softly, and then Quentin is hugging him and it feels good — it feels wonderful to hug Quentin.

“Sorry.”

“Never apologize Q,” Eliot says and kisses the top of his head.

“Now why don’t you help me decide what flavor of birthday cake I want for Friday,” Eliot mentions going to the pantry and taking out his recipe books. Quentin just sits at the counter and smiles.

“I can do that.”

* * *

The party is in full swing when Quentin walks inside — he’s fashionably late.

(Mostly because he couldn’t figure out what to wear for a party like this... thankfully James and Freya had been around to help out.)

(It’s not like he wants to impress anyone — he just wants to look good... that is all — honest!)

“Quentin! You’re here! Fabulous,” Margo yells when she sees him.

“The place looks great.”

“Doesn’t it? And we haven’t had a single crisis so far which might be a first — in going to have to thank those friends of yours later.”

“You’ve got a very terrifying bouncer so that probably helps?” Quentin mentions, and Margo smirks.

“Gina is one of our usual bouncers. She’s a shifter — she turns into a lion and let me tell you? Spectacular in bed.”

Quentin of course turns red which he knows Margo does on purpose.

“You’re a menace.”

“And don’t you forget it,” Margo says, then takes a good look at him. “Twirl for me hedge boy.”

Quentin rolls his eyes but does as asked and so Margo whistles.

“You clean up nice — real nice... you’re really handsome when you’re wearing clothes that are your size.”

“It’s just clothes.”

“You’re right — you’re always handsome because your face is unfairly gorgeous... but the clothes definitely help the allure.”

“I’m not —“

“You are — I have a discerning and keen eye Coldwater... my particular senses singled you out as pretty from the start and I’m never wrong,” Margo says and Quentin once again sees the fire behind her eyes.

He’s found that Margo’s eyes do that from time to time — especially if she’s certain about something. The flames in her eyes dance and then disappear.

“Have I ever told you that your eyes are so cool?”

Margo gives him a soft smile, “No you have not — but I’m glad you like them... you don’t think they’re too much?”

“They’re badass just like you.”

“Oh Q — never change,” Margo says. “But don’t distract me — you’re a catch and you’re smoking hot....”

And then she smirks and Quentin has come to learn that that means trouble.

“Why don’t we get a second opinion? There’s Eliot — El!”

That’s when Quentin sees him and god — it’s not fair. How can a person be so enchanting? And okay he’s not a person he’s a cupid but still... the thought stands.

Eliot is wearing an expensive deep red jacket with dark red pants — Quentin doesn’t know clothes but Eliot makes it work. He looks like a million bucks.

Another thing he’s come to learn? No one rocks a three-piece suit like Eliot Waugh.

“Yes, Bambi?”

“Come over here I need a second opinion.”

Eliot comes over to them and smiles “Q — you look...”

“Doesn’t he look gorgeous?” Margo asks with a twinkle in her eye.

“I.. yes — you look very handsome,” Eliot says almost reverently.

And Quentin feels it. For the first time in his life Quentin actually feels handsome and how could he not with Eliot looking at him like that?

“I’m gonna mingle — have fun boys.”

And then Margo is gone.

“Happy birthday! I mean I know it’s not technically your birthday — do you have a birthday? Everyone should have a birthday.. but I bet yours was on some indescribable date or something right?” Quentin babbles nervously.

“Well, I have taken tonight as my birthday from now on so thank you,” Eliot says, “Are you enjoying yourself?”

“I am..”

“You don’t have a drink though — what a terrible host I am,” Eliot smiles.

“Technically I just got here, and I was talking to Margo, so I couldn’t get one yet.”

“Nonsense — let's get you something,” Eliot says walking towards the bar, “Try this it’s kind of a Halloween Margarita.”

“It’s really good.”

“Thank you — Margo is right you know? You do clean up nicely.”

“I’m beginning to think it’s yours and Margo’s mission to make me blush all the time.”

“Well — I do like seeing you in my color,” Eliot says softly.

“Do you?” Quentin asks.

“I do,” Eliot says, and he’s staring at Quentin in that indescribable way of his. Quentin is almost certain Eliot wants to kiss him but that’s crazy right? He could have anyone.

Before Quentin can do anything the moment is broken by a loud noise behind them.

“I should — go see what that is... don’t want Margo getting all fired up for nothing.”

“Right..”

“Enjoy the party.”

And then he’s gone and Quentin is reeling. Did that just happen?

* * *

Quentin is walking around the party, almost done with the drink Eliot made him. Should he go looking for him and use that as an excuse? He wants to talk to Eliot but also doesn’t want to bother him too much.

After all, there’s cooler people at this party than Quentin himself.

He’s trying to find someone to talk to, but he’s never been the best at meeting new people. He sees Penny flirting with Kady and Julia over in the corner — he’s not sure what’s going on there, but he’s not going to get in the middle of it. Freya and Amy are making out on the other side of the room, he’s definitely not going to interrupt that.

“You’re new.”

Quentin turns around to see a blonde woman slightly shorter than him.

“Are you talking to me?”

“I don’t see anyone else around,” she says.

“Technically there’s a lot of people around because we’re at a party,” Quentin points out.

“You’re Eliot’s hedge aren’t you?”

“I am no one’s anything… but uh — my name is Quentin? Quentin Coldwater.”

“I’m Alice Quinn — Margo has told me a lot about you.”

Recognition fills Quentin at that moment — this is Margo’s on/off (currently on) vampire girlfriend.

“I’ve heard a lot about you too,” Quentin says, and he has, from both Margo and Eliot.

* * *

Margo has been staring at him with that knowing stare since the party started. That stare that tells him she knows all of his secrets, even his most heavily guarded ones.

Especially his most heavily guarded ones.

So he mingles and tries to prove her wrong — he decided to have a party because he wanted a birthday. It is only fair. Why should humans get all the fun?

If he was being honest with himself — he wants to spend the entire party by Quentin’s side listening to his stories of everything that happened during the week. Or to have his attention while he regales him with his own stories.

Maybe he should go looking for Quentin right? He’s mingled enough for Margo to leave him alone — plus she’s distracted right now — probably going to start a push game. Margo loves setting up games and wagers at parties.

So it’s truly the perfect time to go looking for Quentin.

But when he finds him — he’s animatedly talking to Alice Quinn of all people. Eliot is not jealous — he’s not. Especially not of Alice Quinn. He knows there’s nothing to be jealous of. Margo and Alice are extremely committed to each other during the times when they’re in a relationship, and they’re in one now. In fact, this current one just started about a year ago.

Sure, they bring people to their bed from time to time but not Quentin, right? Margo wouldn’t do that. She wouldn't.

And yet Eliot feels a jolt at seeing Quentin laughing with Alice. Which is ridiculous because Quentin can laugh with whomever he wants. He’s free to do whatever he wants.

But he seems to be having fun — so Eliot is not going to bother him.

He just — he needs a drink.

* * *

Quentin finds himself laughing a lot in Alice’s company. It’s been amazing to get to talk about the differences between pop culture and actual supernatural beings themselves. Especially talking about it with someone that has actually lived through all of it. From what he understands, Alice is only like two hundred years younger than Margo herself and definitely older than Eliot.

“I bet the years after Twilight came out were annoying,” Quentin says

“So annoying! Sparkly vampires! I have never sparkled, not once,” Alice argues and then considers it and blushes, “Well outside of a time when Margo and I — anyway that was glitter rather than any natural sparklage.”

“Is any of it actually real?”

“Twilight?”

“No I mean yes but overall — vampire lore,” Quentin says, gesturing wildly.

“Garlic does nothing — I love garlic bread actually, crosses make me laugh. I have a few cross necklaces that I used to wear to trip people up.”

“Oh I love that,” Quentin laughs.

“I’ve got a healthy diet of B+ blood and bacon.”

“Bacon?”

“I love bacon,” Alice murmurs into her drink.

“So nothing is real outside of the drinking blood and living forever thing?”

“Well, the stakes are real but honestly? People usually don’t care, not in this day and age,” Alice says, “And oh… there is one piece of media that is _mostly accurate_ at least in regard to vampires.”

“Now you have to tell me.”

“Vampire Diaries,” Alice says.

“You’re kidding,” Quentin says incredulously.

“Oh no — I mean there’s a few subtle differences here and there and the only accurate parts are the vampire ones but I might have it on good authority that a vampire actually sold that story.”

“Now I need to know more — is it all true?”

“God no — but my ex-girlfriend Kat, well her best friend is dating someone from a specific family of vampires.”

“The Mikaelsons are real?”

“They’re the Morgansons actually, Kat never said it was them, but she alluded to it and I’ve met Caroline and her long term husband, and the show is exaggerated but like you could see the resemblance.”

“Are they really the first vampires?”

“God no — no one really knows how vampires started although the origin story in the show is as good as any. There’s no sire bonds or hybrids or whatever ratings grab the show came up with. Silas doesn’t exist and neither do the Salvatores. I think that Caroline actually is from a small town so that’s completely possible but other than that? Rumor is that most of the depictions are just different members of that family just taking the piss at each other.”

“That is — wow,” Quentin says laughing, “I love that — it’s genius.”

“I’ll tell you what. If they ever come to town I’ll let you know,” Alice promises.

“Oh please do — I guess if you’re going to live forever you might as well have fun right?”

“I guess I never thought of it that way.”

“Is it amazing?”

“The show? I could only stomach until like season four,” Alice points out, which is true. After that, it went wildly off the rails, even for a vampire show.

“No I mean — the ability to watch life change all around you. You see history happen before your eyes and you get to live through it.”

“I’m — not great with change… ironically enough, it’s one of the things Margo and I have in common,” Alice admits.

“I understand that — drastic changes are sometimes a bit too much for me… especially with my brain,” Quentin says, “Still it must have some good parts?”

“Stories — I really like stories,” Alice says, “And I like meeting people who are seemingly normal. Just random painters or writers or just people living day by day and then in 50 or 60 years they’re famous. Most of them don’t even know it.”

“Like who?”

“Vincent van Gogh for one.”

“You’ve met Vincent van Gogh?” Quentin asks quietly. He was never the type to get lost in art, he’d get lost in books instead but after the first time, he was hospitalized he remembered visiting MoMA and seeing Starry Night. It was spectacular and it called to him. Molly had given him a book on Van Gogh years earlier that stayed on his bookshelf for a long time unopened.

He opened it after he got home, and he’d felt a connection — in the same way as his books. Not as much as Fillory but it spoke to him. He went on a full journey about how he felt about Van Gogh’s mental illness and how society perceived it. That too has changed over the years but that’s not a conversation for a party.

As nice as Alice is — he’s not ready to open that can of worms.

“He was impressive and unique, sort of brilliant yet complicated...,” Alice says, “And wounded? He had this eternal melancholy. I related to that a bit. I always thought he was underappreciated and now look at him — remembered as one of the greatest painters.”

“Anyone else?”

“Mary Shelley.“

“No way? You met Mary freaking Shelley? The woman who at nineteen years old created science fiction as we know it?” Quentin says motioning excitedly.

“Yes.”

“Holy shit — She invented a genre! It’s thanks to her and Frankenstein not just the goth science — which … well no one will ever be as goth as Mary Shelley — but this idea that a scientist can create life which is found pretty much throughout history in not just science fiction but in all types of media. From the Rocky Horror Picture Show to Jurassic Park. _Your scientists were so preoccupied with whether or not they could, they didn’t stop to think if they should_. It’s one of the most iconic lines in cinema! We wouldn’t have that without Shelley’s exploration of what it’s like for a scientist to want to play God. And the conversations of what turns a man into a monster.”

Quentin just keeps ranting while Alice looks both amused and interested at the connection of thoughts coming out of his mouth.

“Because Victor Frankenstein is the doctor, but he’s also the monster as he created something just because he could do it. Then when it wasn’t perfect it abandoned it and then blamed it for not knowing how to cope when life tosses you aside without a second glance! How hubris is what normally destroys us. Without Mary Shelley, we probably wouldn’t have Star Trek or Star Wars, which are not directly influenced by Shelley but rather they’re a consequence of her creation. Just by cause and effect — because they might not seem connected but it’s just an evolution of her original ideas.”

“And when you think of it like that don’t you just love the meta-perspective of all of it? Victor Frankenstein wanted to play God and could have never imagined what he created. He in all essence failed because it’s also a story of failure. Frankenstein’s failure is Shelley’s triumph. She is both God and mother of science fiction and there’s no way she could have known what she was creating or the impact it would have even years later. To this day!”

“I can definitely say she had no idea about any of that,” Alice laughs, and then Quentin blushes.

“So I — I’ve been told… I’m slightly passionate about things,” Quentin admits.

“Never apologize for passion,” Alice says, “Mary definitely never did — I think you two would have had wonderful conversations. She was absolutely thrilling.”

“You think?”

“Yeah, I do…” Alice says in full confidence.

They’re quiet for a moment and then Alice speaks up again.

“You’re different than I expected,” Alice points out and Quentin just stares at her.

“What did you expect?”

“I don’t quite know but a sort of cute hedge nerd was probably not it,” Alice says.

“Thanks, I guess?”

“What I mean is that — she likes you.”

“Who does?” Quentin asks and Alice looks unimpressed, “Margo?”

“She doesn’t say it but I can tell, years of practice one would say… She’s impressed, and she seems to genuinely like you — which considering the deck was slightly stacked against you…”

“It was?”

Alice looks like she’s said too much but can’t back down now that she’s said it.

“Margo is protective of Eliot — very protective... She always has been but well there’s things that aren’t for me to say and I won’t… but it makes her fierce in her protection and you’re the first anything really that Eliot has paid constant attention to in a while… So she was slightly on edge about that. Then one day she came home in a really good mood — like a freakishly good mood — and said she’d met you and that was that.”

“Huh,” Quentin says trying to absorb the information, “Well I like her too.”

* * *

Eliot hears his Bambi’s laughter and goes towards the noise. It’s not that Margo doesn’t usually laugh but that specific laugh? During a party? It’s interesting.

What he finds is a Push game — he knew Margo would set up one but not that she’d participate, she normally sticks to hedging her bets during parties.

“El! You made it,” Margo says

“Hey Bambi what is going on?”

“Not much just enjoying a bit of a game, are you in?” Margo asks.

“What’s the wager?”

“Right now we’re up to 4 spells, one gold necklace and what was it? 4 favors?” Quentin interjects.

And that’s when Eliot notices that it’s Quentin that is sitting at the table while Margo is standing behind him. Quentin is somehow sitting on a chair that’s been turned around and is resting one of his arms on it while the other is on the table. Alice and Quentin’s friend Penny are talking off to the side.

“I thought we were up to 5 favors?” Margo asks and looks at Alice.

“So far it’s actually 5 spells, one gold necklace, and 4 favors,” Alice says reading from where she’s written it down.

“What she said,” Quentin laughs.

“That’s my woman,” Margo smirks and Alice rolls her eyes.

“So what exactly is going on here?” Eliot asks.

“Push — I’m sure you’ve heard of it,” Quentin says cheekily.

“Once or twice,” Eliot responds.

“Want to get in on _the action?_ ” Quentin says emphasizing the word action.

Eliot stares at him wondering what happened to his cute bumbling nerd, although the confidence is pretty fucking hot, to be honest.

“So are you in?” Quentin asks again, “it’s okay if you want to sit this one out — wouldn’t want to humiliate you at your own party.”

Eliot hears Margo laughing from behind Quentin and between that and wanting to wipe the smirk from his face — Eliot sits down on the chair opposite Quentin.

“Deal me in.”

It starts out well enough for Eliot.

The truth is that Push has never been his game — he’s more of a pool shark — but he’s played enough with Margo to know how to play. Although he tries to never play with Margo, he loves his Bambi but a guy’s ego can only take so much defeat.

He figured that Quentin would be easier than Margo. This is the same Quentin that once got flustered because Eliot touched his arm. Eliot had figured that he could bluff and then try to fluster Quentin or in the words of John Mulaney, throw him off his rhythm.

Suffice to say — that did not work.

That did not work _in the slightest._

In fact, it might have done the opposite effect.

Because Quentin has always been sexy — he knew it since the moment the nerd stumbled into his coffee shop all nervous energy and unruly hair — but the confidence is new. There’s no way Eliot Waugh could have ever prepared for how sensual Quentin Coldwater playing push is. It’s almost obscene.

So can anyone really blame him for getting distracted and focusing on the boy rather than the game?

(His already tight pants are definitely feeling tighter)

So of course, he loses — Bambi is never going to let him forget this, he knows just by the glint in her eyes and the smirk on her face.

She makes him vacate the seat when he loses — something about the wager. He’s not really listening at this point. Quentin’s eyes follow him as he goes towards the wall to observe.

Now that he has a bit of distance he realizes something.

Quentin is showing off — more specifically — Quentin is showing off for _Eliot._

Interesting indeed.

There’s a couple more rounds until Margo declares Quentin as the winner of the night. If Eliot knows his Bambi, and he does, he knows the spoils of the game will probably be split 50/50 (normally 60/40 but she might make an exception).

“Hey,” Quentin says coming up next to him.

“Hey,” Eliot answers and then grabs Quentin’s hand and pulls him towards the secluded part of the room.

* * *

Quentin lets himself get dragged away from the crowds and into a secluded corner. When Margo had suggested a small Push tournament Quentin did not anticipate this ending. She’d come across him and Alice talking about theories of magic and said the topic was much too nerdy for a party. Then she’d suggested Push.

Well, the truth is that Quentin could never say no to a good Push game. By the time Eliot had showed up he’d already beaten a few opponents, so he had a very nice confidence boost.

Quentin had been slightly surprised at how bad at Push Eliot had been — he hadn’t won a single hand! And for someone whose magic was literally effortless? That is surprising. But maybe it’s just not Eliot’s day.

So he’d beaten him, and then he was down to beat 3 more and the game would be over. He and Margo would split 50/50. She’d tried to argue for 60/40 (actually she’d started at 70/30, and he’d convinced her about 60/40). Then after the game with Eliot she’d smiled at him and said he’d earned the 50/50 whatever that meant.

He realizes early on that Eliot is still watching him, so he tries for more flair than he usually does. There’s nothing wrong with a little showing off after all.

And now they’re in a secluded corner and Eliot is staring at him with what can only be described as lust. Quentin might be oblivious at times but not even he can miss the glaringly obvious sign.

He can hear the music blaring in the background but all the sounds fade away as he decides to be the one that closes the distance between them. It only takes a second for Eliot to kiss him back, his lips warm and inviting. Quentin tastes the elaborate drink that Eliot has been drinking all night. He just wants more — it’s like the lid slid off and now all he can think about is the fact that he’s finally kissing this man.

Quentin’s eyes are closed in pleasure, and he feels Eliot’s hand behind his neck pulling him closer, his own hands on Eliot’s back and Eliot’s hair.

How he wants to mess up those perfect locks of his. Quentin’s heart is pounding as they come up for air. Eliot smiles at him and Quentin smiles back.

Then all bets are truly off.

Eliot starts kissing Quentin’s neck and Quentin is sure he’s going to end up covered in hickies by the time this is over. He pulls Eliot’s jacket off and starts working on the waistcoat. Eliot bites Quentin’s lip and Quentin almost moans at the sensation.

He wants it all — he doesn’t care that they’re technically still in public.

(If he’s honest with himself that’s part of the allure probably).

He’s shirtless and Eliot is almost shirtless and the only thing that Quentin can consciously think right this second is how much he truly wants to suck Eliot Waugh’s dick.

He just knows it’s a big dick — he knows it deep in his bones — and his mouth basically waters at the thought.

Quentin is about to ask Eliot if he can suck his dick — when it happens.

Because of fucking course.

It’s just Quentin’s luck that he’s finally hooking up with the cupid he has feelings for when they get interrupted.

Quentin hears a loud and drunken, “Quentin!!”

And he just sighs.

“Maybe if we just ignore them?” Eliot suggests

As much as Quentin wants to he knows it won’t work.

“They’re very persistent,” Quentin admits and sure enough about a minute later there is a very drunk Julia with Freya and Amy running after her.

“There you are!” Julia says not really noticing his state of undress.

Freya definitely notices.

“Sorry — she had an argument with Kady... I think? So we have to take her home or at least that’s what we think,” Amy says

“Sorry to interrupt your fun,” Freya says, Eliot doesn’t make a move to get dressed but Quentin does.

“I suggested we just leave you to it, but she’s uh insistent and won’t really come with us,” Freya points out and at least she does look sorry about it.

“Well, I uh — I’ll talk to you later?” Quentin asks, turning back to the nervous wreck. All traces of earlier confidence gone.

“You have my number,” Eliot reminds him.

“Right yes — have a fun rest of the night?”

“Not as fun as it was going to be but I’ll try,” Eliot smirks and Quentin is flushed.

Eliot might actually murder Kady this time.

(He won’t)

(But Damn he wants to).

Quentin walks away, more like is dragged away, and Eliot gathers his discarded clothes and heads up to the bedroom he has here.

* * *

The previous night had not ended the way Quentin would have wanted, considering he spent the night watching over drunk Julia instead of sucking Eliot’s dick.

Julia needed him at the moment, and there will be other opportunities to make out with Eliot Waugh. At least he hopes so.

He still had no idea why she got so drunk — she refused to tell him and kept changing the subject. Then she’d left for her own apartment. Quentin had stuck around the bodega because he had a few mending projects to finish.

He wants to finish them before he calls Eliot — or should he text? Maybe he’ll just show up at the coffee shop all nonchalant?

(There’s no way he could ever pull off nonchalant so that’s off the table).

Anyway, he has time to think about it — and then his phone rings.

* * *

Eliot is working from home today. He doesn’t do it a lot but sometimes the situation calls for it. Sometimes the situation is that your main worker is pissed off and it’s messing with your flow. He’d asked Kady what had happened at the party, and she’d basically bitten his head off.

So he’s giving her space — because he’s good like that.

(Also her feelings are all over the place and it’s quite frankly giving him and his powers a headache.)

His affinity to feel other people’s emotions is sometimes a real hassle. And with Kady’s being this messy? There’s no way he’d get anything done at the café.

So he’s working from home.

Which is why he’s home when there’s a knock on the door.

It’s peculiar — because not many people have his address.

He opens the door and there’s Quentin, drenched from the rain.

“I’m sorry — I didn’t actually think you’d be here... I can go.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Eliot says hurrying him inside and closing the door.

He heads to his linen closet and takes out a towel, “Take off your shirt.”

Quentin just stares.

“Q — you’re soaked... let me put your clothes in the dryer?” Eliot asks softly and it seems like Quentin finally reacts.

He takes off his wet shirt and pants and hands them over, covering himself in the towel Eliot gives him.

Eliot puts the clothes in the laundry room and heads back with something he thinks might fit.

“I don’t have many things that could fit because well I’m taller but here are some sweatpants, socks, and a shirt?”

“I can’t believe you actually own a t-shirt.”

“I own a few, but they’re mostly for sleep — would never let anyone catch me in one outside of these walls,” Eliot jokes.

Quentin barely responds but gives him a small smile so that’s progress.

Eliot grabs Quentin’s hand and directs him towards the bathroom, then takes the hairdryer and starts drying Quentin’s hair.

He takes his time and massages his scalp a little bit. He’s careful and Quentin is quiet.

This is the quietest he’s ever seen, Quentin. It’s honestly more than a bit worrying. Then he’s done.

“There you’re all dry.”

Quentin lets himself get dragged into the living room and Eliot brings him tea; normal, not spelled in any way.

“Do you — want to talk about it?”

“Talk about what?”

“The reason you showed up at my house like a drenched cat? A cute drenched cat but a drenched cat nonetheless.”

“I didn’t know you’d be home.”

“And you still came here?”

“I — I just walked... and I guess I ended up here?”

That makes Eliot’s heart skip a beat. Which is a dumb expression but that’s exactly what it feels like.

“Q — I want to help... is it, Julia? One of the girls? Your friend James?”

“It’s my dad...” Quentin mutters after a quiet minute.

“Oh,” Eliot says, this is definitely above his pay grade.

“He’s going to die… his cancer is back,” Quentin says.

“Shit.”

“I barely got him to get chemo the first time around and now that it’s back he says he can’t do it anymore and that his doctors agree…“How long?”

“I don’t — I don’t actually know… no one does — last time they said a year, and then he went into remission and was in remission 2 years. I found out about magic and a few months later my dad had cancer and I tried it all you know? And there’s no magical cure which isn’t that just bullshit? We should be able to fix things like this… things that matter.”

“We can make it easier for the person, but we can’t fix it,” Eliot says softly, “Don’t go down this road — I’ve known people who have and most of them niffined out or lost it all.”

“No — I… I know better this time but it doesn’t…. It doesn’t stop being shitty does it?”

“It doesn’t,” Eliot agrees, “I wish I could help, that I could heal your dad.”

“That’s not why I came here…”

“Why did you?” Eliot asks quietly.

“You make me feel safe.”

“Oh.,” Eliot replies and then hugs Quentin and lets him cry. Talking can come later — for now Quentin can cry.

And Quentin does — he cries until he feels he has no tears left. He gets Eliot’s shirt wet but Eliot finds he doesn’t care, as long as he can bring Quentin some comfort. Quentin passes out and Eliot covers him with a blanket.

Then goes to the kitchen to cook — Quentin is going to need it when he wakes up.

* * *

Quentin wakes up with a slight headache which he knows comes from crying too much. He opens his eyes and sees a blanket that is clearly not his and that’s when it hits him.

Oh shit, he’s not home, and oh shit he cried himself to sleep in Eliot’s arms.

Talk about _embarrassing._

“You’re awake,” Eliot says from behind him. Quentin notices that Eliot is wearing glasses which if you ask him is just unfair — because Eliot is already unfairly gorgeous as is. But then you add glasses and he looks even better.

“Yeah — I… sorry?” Quentin says sheepishly but Eliot waves it off.

“Drink the water and the Motrin you’ll feel better and then come here because it’s dinner time — well technically it’s like 5 o’clock but it counts.”

Quentin goes and sits down at the table next to Eliot. Eliot has made some sort of pasta from what he can tell and something else that looks good but Quentin doesn’t know how to describe it.

“We have pasta Carbonara and a Spanish tortilla de papa,” Eliot explains, “It’s a Spanish dish containing potato, egg, onion and I added a few peppers because it gives it an extra kick.”

Eliot cuts Quentin a piece of the tortilla and puts some pasta on Quentin's plate before putting some on his own plate.

“This is really good,” Quentin mentions with a slight tone of surprise.

“You sound surprised,” Eliot says amused.

“No, I just — I knew you were good I just...”

“Hey Q relax I’m messing with you. Some people that are good bakers aren’t exactly good at other stuff... Me? I’ve had a lot of practice.”

“It’s not just that — I just haven’t really had a good home-cooked meal in ages… I can’t really cook outside of some breakfast foods? Amy is a decent cook as are James and Penny but the rest of my friends aren’t particularly gifted in this area.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Eliot says, “I love cooking — it comforts me.”

“You probably know all the recipes known huh?” Quentin asks.

“Not all of them but I do have an entire wall of recipes, perfectly organized just in case, the fun part is when some of the ingredients stop existing over time and you have to figure how to replace them without altering the flavor profile too much — or well if you alter it that it’s for the better. Because more than likely it won’t be exactly the same.”

Eliot goes off about the differences and similarities about different foods and flavor profiles and the things that he has discovered over the years and Quentin is just charmed. This goes on for a few minutes until Eliot notices it.

“Sorry I guess I have a lot of opinions,” Eliot says with a slight blush.

“Hey — I liked it,” Quentin says, reaching out and grabbing Eliot’s hand.

Eliot is surprised by the action and smiles at him, That’s when Quentin notices them. He kind of can’t believe he never noticed them before. Eliot’s eyes are actually red?

They remind Quentin of Gambit’s eyes from X-Men Evolution, without the black sclera of course, but the iris is a gorgeous red.

“I never noticed —,” Quentin starts.

“Never noticed what?” Eliot asks, amused.

“Your eyes,” Quentin says.

“Oh,” Eliot says moving his hand and messing with his glasses.

“They’re beautiful,” Quentin tells him, and he believes it. Eliot’s eyes are stunning, and they make him even more unfairly attractive. Not to mention the way they look with the glasses? It’s like someone picked Eliot out of Quentin’s ~~wet~~ dreams.

“Wasn’t really expecting company, so I guess I forgot to put the contacts back on,” Eliot says, a little bit stiff and looking away, “but thanks.”

* * *

Eliot is suddenly on edge, when the fuck did his glamour fall off? His glamour has never fallen off… The only people who have seen his eyes are because Eliot controls that. Margo, Alice, Idri… and Mike — they’re the only ones that Eliot has actively shown his eyes to. He’s trying not to freak out.

Quentin doesn’t seem to suspect a thing — he just goes back to eating his dessert. Eliot puts on a fake smile and continues talking as if he’s not on edge. Quentin seems like he wants to talk, maybe about their moment their previous night.

Which Eliot would love to talk about — when things are not as weird as they currently feel. But Quentin’s phone rings and whatever he is going to say gets lost in the _almost_. Then Quentin has to leave and Eliot gives him a bit of food to take with him and closes the door.

Afterwards he basically runs to the bathroom and sure enough, his red eyes are on full display — fuck.

He doesn’t get it.

Normally he has control over this. His control is _perfect._ So why the fuck didn’t Eliot fucking notice?? And what the fuck does it even mean? He needs a sleeping pill or a thousand, maybe with a good night’s sleep things will be clearer.

* * *

Things are most definitely not clearer the next day. And the eyes have not gone away. He’s tried all the glamour spells he knows, which usually work within a minute, but nope they don’t work.

No matter what he does the red eyes stare back at him. He does not understand what is going on. And his emotions are all bungled up. He can’t show up to work like this. He likes controlling who sees his eyes.

(Doesn’t want to think about why that is and no Mike’s face does not show up when he closes his eyes, neither does his family’s expressions.)

He’s going to work on cupcakes — he can do that. He’s good at that. He can do actual work and then send them through.

For now, he can’t show up at the café — not like this.

His phone shows a text from Quentin and his heart wants to answer it, but he can’t. He can’t go down that road again.

So he turns the phone facedown and leaves for the kitchen.

* * *

Quentin is feeling pretty good right about now. He is feeling confident. Quentin is pretty sure that Eliot likes him back, not only was the kissing great but then Quentin showed up at his place and Eliot comforted him.

They connected.

_Truly connected._

The way that he’s seen others connect but never actually experienced it himself. He’s on cloud nine right now. He sent El a few texts, a very long message thank you about the previous day and a gambit meme. Because he still thinks his eyes are the coolest thing Quentin has seen.

And he’s friends with a dragon and a vampire now, so he’s seen some pretty awesome things. But nothing as amazing as Eliot’s warm eyes.

So he heads to _The Horde_ to see Eliot because he’s has something he wants to ask him. He’s almost giddy.

He walks inside to find Margo on a corner chatting with Alice while Kady is at the cash register.

“Hey Coldwater,” Kady says.

“Hey Kady,” Quentin responds.

“The usual?” Kady asks.

“Yeah — is El around?”

“He’s not here yet, but he should be around soon I think?” Kady says ringing his order up.

He heads to his usual table with his bagel and his book to wait.

“Q — you’re looking nice today… decided to put on clean clothes rather than pick something off the floor for once?” Margo teases.

“Funny.”

“I know,” Margo preens, “So what are we reading today?”

“Stardust by Neil Gaiman,” Quentin says.

“Is this the first time you’ve read it?”

“More like 4th? I like it,” Quentin admits sheepishly.

“Well I’ll have to check it out sometime then — I liked the last book you lent me.”

“Red, White, and Royal Blue?”

“I admit I was hesitant at first but it really was as good as you claimed,” Margo admits.

“It made you feel warm inside didn’t it?” Quentin says knowingly.

“You can’t prove it,” Margo says but winks at Quentin who then laughs, “I’ll leave you to your book.”

Margo goes back to join Alice who gives Quentin a small wave before they leave the coffee shop. Quentin just looks at the doors and waits for Eliot to come through, so he can ask his question.

One hour.

Two hours.

Three hours.

Four hours.

“He’s probably caught up in paperwork — sometimes he forgets to come up for air,” Kady jokes but there’s something in her eye: pity.

Quentin feels his confidence leave him with every passing hour and every unanswered text. Another hour passes and Quentin grabs his stuff, he has some work to finish, so he should probably get to that.

* * *

Quentin is at home staring at his phone willing it to ring but there is nothing. No calls, no texts, no voice chats, or memes. No messages complaining about Todd or joking about firing Kady.

It’s stupid — god he should have seen this coming.

Of course, someone like Eliot wasn’t interested in him and Quentin had clearly overstepped. Sure they made out but then Quentin just showed up at his place and cried on him. Which was definitely not what he signed up for. Quentin just misinterpreted things yet again. That has to be it right?

It’s been a week of radio silence. A week of showing up at the café every day and not seeing him. A week of Kady looking at him with pity when she tells him that Eliot didn’t come in that day or that Quentin had just missed him.

Quentin truly can’t be more pathetic huh?

Of course, everyone knows.

Quentin is nothing if not extremely obvious.

There’s a knock on his door, and he looks up to see James with a tray of food.

“Hey Q — I made you some pancakes, you should probably eat something.”

“Not very hungry,” Quentin says

“I know but you have to eat something and I’m not leaving here until you do,” James says sitting on the bed.

He stares at him until Quentin has enough and starts picking at his food. It’s not bad — James is a decent cook. When he and Julia were dating and Julia still lived with them James was in charge of the cooking. Quentin can only do certain breakfast foods and coffee, Julia can do things that don’t require a stove so logically James did the cooking. They didn’t want the apartment burning down after all.

He finishes the pancakes and the orange juice and looks at James like “see I finished it.”

“Good — are you ready to talk about it?”

“What’s there to talk about, things have been made perfectly clear. I clearly misinterpreted what we were or rather what we could be. One makeout does not a relationship make,” Quentin says.

“No but you did talk to him pretty much every day for 4 months, you spent hours working together on the party stuff and you shared a part of you that you don’t usually share.”

“Because I’m an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot Q,” James says.

“No I’m definitely an idiot, how conceited do I have to be to think a guy like that would be interested in me? He was probably just humoring me and I once again read the entire situation wrong.”

“Why wouldn’t he be interested in you? You’re a catch.”

Quentin just stares at his friend, “You’re just saying that.”

“No, I’m not, you’re good looking, you’re smart — he’d be lucky.”

“I don’t feel very lucky,” Quentin admits, “At least before I knew that people didn’t care, you know? Poppy never truly cared about anything but sex, same with Zach, Alana, and I weren’t suited to each other… but Eliot? I honestly thought he cared.”

Quentin knows this time isn’t just him getting ahead of himself — not really. Eliot has shown him that he cares. He has listened to him rant about his magic, Julia, television characters, why the Fillory books aren’t just new Narnia, he’s comforted Quentin about his dad. That couldn’t all be fake right?

Quentin doesn’t know how to feel, what to think….

“I’m sorry Q,” James says softly.

“Story of my life — I should probably get used to living alone with cats right?”

“Q…”

“You know the kicker?”

“What’s the kicker?”

“I think I might actually be falling in love with him, like _actual real love_ … I’m an idiot,” Quentin says with his hands in his hair.

“You’re not an idiot Q — giving your heart away doesn’t make you an idiot.”

“Does it ever get better?” Quentin asks quietly after a moment.

“What does?”

“The heartbreak.”

“Oh,” James says.

“You don’t have to —” Quentin starts but James puts a hand up.

“It’s really fucking shitty at first and then it’s still shitty for a few months but as time goes it gets remarkably less shitty, then you move on and you can appreciate what you had without it hurting?” James says.

“It stops hurting?”

“For the most part,” James admits, “A part of me will always have a soft spot for Julia but that doesn’t mean I love Francie any less?”

“Feelings are dumb.”

“They are very dumb indeed,” James agrees.

Quentin grabs a pillow and sighs. He should probably get out of bed soon.

“Want to play some Mario Kart?” James suggests

“Okay but I get first pick,” Quentin says.

“Sounds good.”

They make their way out of Quentin’s room and into the living room where the Switch is connected to the television. Quentin knows what James is doing but he appreciates the chance to get his mind off of everything.

* * *

After a week of the same Margo heads to her best friend’s townhouse. There’s only so much of sad emo Quentin she can take — and he’s getting more emo by the day. Even Kady gave him a free pastry the other day because he just looked pitiful.

Eliot might be her best friend, but he’s also her coworker and Margo really likes their business, more importantly, she likes the money it gives her. Not that she needs more of it, but she’s a dragon, sometimes clichés are true.

Margo really loves gold okay?

Thankfully she has a key, so she doesn’t have to wait to see if he’ll open the door for her — he better.

“I really hope you’re decent and if you’re not I don’t care I’m coming in,” Margo yells and then opens the door and goes inside. Her signature is cued-in to the wards, so she doesn’t have to mess with those which is good.

The house is darker than usual, so she turns on the lights to see that well Eliot has clearly not cleaned in the entire week. Which is slightly worrying considering how much of a neat freak her best friend is, but nothing too alarming… yet

She goes towards the kitchen because she hears noises and that’s when she sees him on the ground covered in flour and empty bottles. Her best friend is apparently — very drunk.

Which is not the easiest of feats, unless he drinks enough of a specific liquor and sure enough there it is.

“Is this what you’ve been doing all week?”

“Bambi!” Eliot yells excitedly.

“You reek, when was the last time you showered,” Margo asks but Eliot shrugs and goes to take another chug of his current bottle but Margo rips it out of his hand.

“Hey! I was drinking that.”

“Not anymore you’re not, get up and put clean yourself up.”

“No..” Eliot pouts.

So Margo grabs his hand and pulls him up then drags him towards the bathroom. She turns on the faucet so cold water comes out and practically pushes him inside and closes the door. “You’re going to wash up, and then we’re going to talk,” Margo says and then storms out of the bathroom.

She heads to the kitchen and well — she’s never seen it this messy. Not even when they lost that bet against a fairy and had to cook 100 cupcakes for their gathering. But just like that time Margo is ready to get her hands dirty for her best friend. Which in this case means throwing out the empty bottles, cleaning the counters, and throwing out the half-eaten cupcakes. And the half-baked ones.

She has no clue what is going on but she’s going to get to the bottom of it.

* * *

Thirty minutes later Eliot comes out of the shower, fully dressed in a button-up shirt, pants, and a long sweater, and joins Margo on the couch.

“My head is killing me,” Eliot mutters.

“Well, I’m not the one that drank two bottles of tequila and one and a half of the magical kind.”

“Is that why I feel like I’m going to explode,” Eliot complains touching his temples. “You’re not going to explode you, big baby,” Margo says but hands him a shot glass filled with something that looks disgusting. Eliot grimaces but takes it and chugs it.

“How does that get worse every time.”

Margo shrugs and takes the empty shot glass putting it on the table and waiting two minutes for it to take effect.

“Are you ready to talk now?”

“Can I go back to being drunk instead?” Eliot says lying his head on Margo’s lap.

“No baby, so spill — what happened?”

“Can’t you see?”

“What I saw was a dirty kitchen and a drunk cupid,” Margo says.

“Look closer,” Eliot says.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about darling.”

“My eyes Bambi! I can’t get my glamour to work, I can’t get anything to work! I’m useless.”

“Oh — I hadn’t even noticed them,” Margo says and it’s actually true. She hadn’t noticed that the red eyes are on full display.

“And the stupid cupcakes don’t work so I’ve lost all my powers now,” Eliot says.

“Wait.. honey — did you try to use your magic on yourself?” Margo asks, and Eliot tries to hide his face… “El?”

“Maybe…”

“El your powers probably still work.”

“No — I tried!”

“Have they ever worked on you?” Margo asks.

“I… never tried before okay? I never had a reason to,” Eliot says sitting up.

“That’s because your own powers don’t work on you...”

“That’s stupid… why won’t they?”

“Will you tell me what happened?”

And so Eliot does — he tells her everything that happened — from the party to Quentin showing up and crying on him to the eyes.

“What did he say about your eyes? Did he look scared? Did he flinch?”

“He…”

“Yes?”

“He said they were beautiful?”

Margo just stares at him in disbelief. She’s massaging her temples against the brewing headache even while she gapes at him.

“How can someone so smart be so goddamn stupid?”

“What?”

“The guy you’re gone on likes you, he’s a good kisser, and he told you he feels safe around you… When he got bad news he didn’t go to his friends he came to _you_ …and you decided to get drunk because he saw your eyes?”

“It’s not just the eyes — things aren’t working..” Eliot mutters gesturing wildly, “And I’m not gone on him.”

“Oh, honey try the denial act on someone that hasn’t known you as long as I have,” Margo scoffs.

“You want to know what I think?”

“You’re going to tell me either way,” Eliot says knowingly.

“I think you’re running scared — I think you like Quentin, and who wouldn't? He's an adorable nerd with a bratty edge… he’s delightful. And it terrifies you because the last time you had actual feelings for someone you got burned… But I’m going to let you in on a little secret.”

“What’s the secret.”

“Quentin is not Mike… he’s not even remotely Mike… Mike was a douchebag who never actually cared about you and I don’t think you were as hooked as you claimed — it was just the idea of someone... because the biggest truth about what you are? You’re a hopeless romantic.”

Eliot doesn’t say anything just stares at her.

“I think Quentin scares you, truly scares you, because you _know_ that it’s real this time. You know you could get hurt, _truly hurt_...But you know what? You could also be truly happy,” Margo states.

“I don’t need a relationship to be happy,” Eliot mutters

“I don’t need romance, I’m good with my relationship as is, I don’t lose sleep when Alice and I are off. There’s a lot of people like that and it’s okay. But you’re not like that baby, you say you don’t need it because that’s what you’ve been convincing yourself of all these years… Because you think you don’t deserve it,” Margo says softly and Eliot looks at her, “But you do deserve it — you deserve the world.”

“And you think that’s Quentin?”

“I don’t know — he might be, he might not be… but I do think you owe it to yourself to figure it out… El you deserve to have the love you help other people find,” Margo states.

“Maybe,” Eliot says quietly.

“Think about it — although if you’re not going to go for it? Have the decency to let Quentin know? That boy does not deserve to get ghosted.”

After a moment of silence Margo rolls her eyes, “I expect you back at the shop tomorrow full time not just to drop off food and leave… Now, what cheesy movie are we going to watch tonight?”

* * *

It’s been three days since Margo read him the riot act. Three days since he came back to work. Quentin hasn’t shown his face in the shop. Eliot keeps looking at the door waiting for him to appear. For the first time, Kady is being extra nice to him — which is very freaky. He doesn’t like it.

After Margo had left he charged his phone and found 14 missed calls and 20 new texts from Quentin (there were around 30 from Margo, 6 from Kady, and even 2 from Alice).

The first of Quentin’s messages had been a long rambling wall of text thanking him for everything. He mentioned feeling safe again and mentioned the kisses and how he wanted to ask Eliot a question but wanted to do it in person… Then a few memes he’d definitely looked up (some were about Gambit which made Eliot feel some things — he didn’t really look for nerd stuff but he’d liked that character when he came out… Margo had shown it to him).

From then the messages went from excited to worried to sad. Eliot doesn’t know how to fix it. Can he fix it? He wants to fix it. He wants to see Quentin flushed again yes but more than that he wants to wake up next to him and serve him breakfast in bed. He wants to apologize and hopes Quentin will take him back but — he doesn’t quite know how.

He’s organizing their display, so he doesn’t see the person that just walked in. They’re in November so it’s time to bring out the holiday decor. Eliot has actually met Santa Claus, he’s a good man, so he doesn’t mind putting up the decorations. Plus he loves the idea behind the holidays. It makes him feel creative and there’s a lot of ways to decorate their pastries this time of year.

He hears the voice before he sees the man.

“You’re Eliot right?”

“I am,” Eliot says, turning around to see a very good-looking man. Blonde hair, kind of gives off a jock look. But the type of jock that is a good guy, what’s the word Margo uses? Himbo.

This guy gives him himbo vibes.

“Not what I expected but I can see the appeal.”

“Excuse me? Who are you?” Eliot asks vaguely amused.

“I’m James, I just wanted to see who had my friend all tied up in knots... I know your type.”

“Oh darling you don’t know anything about me — do you even know where you are?” Eliot asks, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter with a smirk on his face.

“Some kind of magical coffee shop. I know you, your dragon friend over there or my ex’s current girlfriend could probably smite me or whatever it is you do but I don’t really give a fuck. Because you know what you are?”

“A cupid?” Eliot comments and the guy actually rolls his eyes at him, and he does know that Margo is a dragon and knows what he is — so maybe not a himbo.

“A douchebag.”

Eliot is not expecting that answer so his eyebrows go up.“Look I’m a pacifist but if it wasn’t for your scary dragon friend who could probably burn me alive,” James says and Margo nods in his direction as if she agrees with the statement, “I’d kick your ass from here to sundown. What you did wasn’t cool.”

“Oh pray tell what it is I did,” Eliot says, more amused than anything. The guy is probably a jilted lover. This isn’t the first time one has tried to come at Eliot and it probably will not be the last.

“You broke his heart man, I don’t know if it’s something you do for fun or if you’re just the type to string people along and then if it gets too deep you ghost them, but he didn’t deserve that.”

It’s at that moment that it hits Eliot exactly who this guy is...

_my ex’s current girlfriend_

Kady is dating Julia. Julia at one point was engaged to a guy named James.

Fuck.

“You’re Quentin’s friend James,” Eliot mutters out loud but mostly for his own benefit. James stares at him.

“No shit Sherlock — at least you know his name.”

“Of course I know his name.”

“Welcome to the conversation like I was saying you’re a fucking douchebag. Do you know how hard it is for him to open up to people? To connect with them? I know what he told you…do you know how rare it is that he opened up about that in particular after a few months? He didn’t tell me until almost three years into our friendship and only because as roommates I caught him during one of his low moments,” James says and Eliot feels shame for the first time in the conversation.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Eliot argues. He’s not — he knows his recent actions weren’t great but he’s not playing with Quentin… He just doesn’t know how to talk to him or if Quentin would even want to talk to him.

“Maybe I don’t, maybe I do — I do know that Q’s been the happiest I’ve ever known him during the last few months… and I know that he deserves better than to be discarded for whatever bullshit reason you have. So if you truly give a fuck about Quentin you’ll make it right otherwise don’t contact him again. Hope you have a truly terrible day.”

And with that James leaves the coffee shop.

“You’ve got to admit — the guy has balls,” Margo says impressed.

“This is a mess,” Eliot says sitting next to her.

“A mess you created all on your own,” Margo reminds him, “The way I see it you’ve got a few options.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes, you could continue burying your head in the sand and hope everything gets magically fixed or you could make a big gesture to actually fix things… hell it doesn’t have to be a big gesture just any gesture.”

“Any?” Eliot smirks.

“Well not those kinds of gestures,” Margo says rolling her eyes, “First he has to forgive you.”

“What if he doesn’t?” Eliot asks

“He’d be within his right because you were kind of an ass but I honestly don’t think you have to worry about that.”

She’s right — as always.

He can’t keep putting it off, can’t keep waiting for Quentin to make the move. Quentin made the move before and Eliot didn’t respond as he should have. He has been a coward — he doesn’t want to be a coward any longer. He needs to tell Quentin everything, even if Quentin turns him away at the end. It’s what he has to do.

“So what are you going to do El?”

“I’m going to be brave,” Eliot admits.

* * *

Eliot gets the direction of Quentin’s safehouse and his apartment from Margo and after he finishes decorating the donuts he heads over there. He heads to the safehouse first because Quentin might still be at work but he’s not there.

All he finds is an angry hedge who tells him he better fix it or she’ll be coming for him. And frankly? Eliot believes her. He knows she’s fully capable of doing it and doesn’t really want to see what she could come up with.

So here he is at Quentin’s door.

All he has to do is knock… and so he does.

The door opens and Quentin is standing there staring at him. God Eliot hadn’t realized how much he missed him until this very moment.

He’s a fool — he’s always been a fool.

“I’m not going to talk first,” Quentin says.

“Technically you already did,” Eliot retorts and he gets a glare in response, “Sorry… can I come in? We need to talk, there’s a lot I need to say, and well if afterwards you want me to get lost I’ll get lost and won’t bother you again.”

Quentin says nothing but moves out of the way for Eliot to come inside and then closes the door behind him.

“So is James around?”

“Eliot.”

“I brought you these,” Eliot says, handing him the box. Quentin opens it and inside are 6 donuts impeccably decorated, the first four spell out the words _I’m very sorry Q,_ while the other two are a reindeer and a heart.

“You think this is enough?” Quentin asks.

“No, but these are to get you to listen to me,” Eliot says, “I know your sweet tooth, you can’t resist my baked goods.”

Quentin looks like he wants to argue but instead grabs the donut with the reindeer and makes himself a coffee and one for Eliot.

The first thing he notices is that Quentin knows how he takes his coffee and then he realizes that this coffee is miles better than what they make at the shop.

“Why did you come into _The Horde_ when your coffee is so much better?” Eliot asks and Quentin rolls his eyes.

“You’re not here to talk about my coffee,” Quentin says.

“No I’m not — but that’s definitely a conversation we should have… and I can table it for later,” Eliot says, following Quentin to the couch where Quentin sits down.

“I hate the phrase _it’s not you it’s me_ , it’s a cop-out and a cliche that people use to avoid responsibility for things or emotions that are their fault. Or well emotions aren’t really anyone’s fault because you can’t control them, not even me. But in this case, it is a true statement — you didn’t do anything wrong… it was all me.”

“I still don’t understand what happened?” Quentin says softly.

“To explain I have to go back to many years ago long before Margo and I even met Kady, hell this was actually around the first time Alice came back into Margo’s life...So I barely knew Alice and I was .. jealous that suddenly she had someone else in her life — it was stupid I know… But I was still… well I was younger and stupider.”

“What does this have to do with me?”

“I’m getting to it — I just… it’s hard, I’ve never personally told this to anyone or talked about it with anyone that wasn’t there.”

“Oh,” Quentin says and moves to the side so Eliot can sit, as a peace offering.

“So like I said I was jealous and it’s stupid because Margo — she’s my Bambi... it doesn’t matter if Alice is there or not she’s not going to replace me with her. Margo — was the first being to love me.”

“El…”

“I had a family, long long ago. I was like.. the human equivalent of 14 so basically like cupid puberty when my eyes changed, it’s when cupids start developing their powers. There’s different sorts, you once joked that one of the only media depictions of cupid you’d seen outside of cartoons was Charmed.”

“Yeah.”

“They’re not fully inaccurate but they got a few key facts wrong.”

“Which are?”

“No every cupid has every ability,” Eliot says, “Some are like your friend Penny and can teleport into other places — unlike your friend, they can also teleport people while they stay behind...This is called beaming and frankly, it looks a little ridiculous because you’re like bathed in pink light? Like whoever created cupids had fun with that.”

“El.”

“Right sorry — Some people are empaths and are assigned charges and can sense said charges when they focus.”

“You can do something like that, can’t you? With your food?”

“I can transmit it through my pastries if I choose to and most of the time I can look at two people and know if they’re in love, lust, or anything of the sort… as long as it’s not too muddled.”

“So wouldn’t you call yourself an empath?”

“Not quite — I don’t have charges and I can’t sense people from a distance.”

“So which ones are your powers?”

“I have immortality like the rest of the cupids, I have telekinesis, I have magic and I can infuse objects with my powers,”

“The cupcakes.”

“Yeah, they’ve brought us success.”

“This is really interesting but I still don’t get why you’re telling me this now.”

“I wasn’t... I was nothing like the people in my family and in our realm I wasn’t exactly… I was the cupid version of bullied.”

“Why?” Quentin asks softly.

“Because of my eyes, they weren’t the norm.. and when it came to my sort of cupid puberty my powers manifested all at once… I accidentally killed another cupid.”

“I thought you said all cupids are immortal?”

“We are once our powers fully manifest, and we reach the well physical body of a human in their 20s which normally isn't much later… our aging is sort of weird.”

“Who did you kill?”

“One of my main tormentors, his name was Logan — my telekinesis manifested, and he had an accident… a lot of people suspected it was me. I was shunned even further, they said my eyes were a sign I was doomed. Basically kicked me out of our city…I found a portal that let me cross to Earth... I was alone for 10 human years and my physical body finished the transformation. Then I met Margo, and they say the rest is history.”

Eliot takes a deep breath and finishes the coffee.

“Margo saw me and helped me become who you see before you. We were together for decades before Alice came back and I thought that like everyone else Margo would discard me.”

“She’d never — she loves you,” Quentin says.

“I know… but back then everything was still _raw._ During one of those days I went out to a bar and I met someone called Mike. He was one of the biggest mistakes I’ve ever made.”

“What did he do?”

“He was a demon and I didn’t realize until too late… He made me doubt everything, especially Margo, and he was one of the few people I willingly showed my eyes to — because I thought he liked me, and he ran away. He said they were proof I was as demonic as he was. He made me feel like I was evil, and he tried to kill Alice. Even after I was an ass to her, she saved my life — so I saved hers.”

“So you killed him.”

“Mostly — I incapacitated him and Margo dealt the killing blow.”

“It was self-defense, it doesn’t make you a monster,” Quentin tells him, and he’s still looking at him as he did before. How can he know Eliot’s darkest secrets and still look at him like he thinks Eliot is worth it?

“It was quite literally centuries ago but I never really opened my heart again. I’ve had flings and some are great friends to this day but nothing that had any emotional weight… not until you.”

“El you don’t have to—,” Quentin starts to say, putting a hand through his hair nervously. Eliot grabs Quentin’s hand and squeezes it

“I do… because you deserve the truth, Quentin.”

“What is.. the truth?” Quentin asks quietly.

“The truth is that Mike was a passing fancy — it only affected me as it did because of previous traumas and I’m over it. Well, mostly... It's just that _you saw my eyes_ … I had not been that emotionally vulnerable with anyone except Bambi for a long time and it spooked me.”

“Why though? It’s just me.”

“Exactly — you are the best person I’ve met. You are amazing and wonderful and a total asshole when you want to be. You’re a brat and a nerd. Quentin, you’re so open about what you love and you love so openly — it’s terrifying and exhilarating and I know if I let myself I could fall even deeper in love with you and it would be forever. You’d be it for me. Being that vulnerable means being brave which is something I’ve never been quite good at. I am quite terrible at speeches and talking about my emotions but you make me want to try. You make me want to be better.”

“I think you’re already pretty perfect.”

“Q.”

“No I’m serious El, you think you’re an awful person but you’re not you’re really not. You are loving and cheerful and caring. You care so much and I’ve always seen that. You like making people happy. You talked to Amy one day for three hours about portal magic because you knew she was interested in it, you and Margo gave Kady a family and a safe place to be and you watch out for her. You’re not the biggest fan of Julia and still looked up those old books that helped her with her magic problems. Margo thinks you’re the best thing that’s happened to her life and I happen to agree — I mean about my life, not Margo’s life… You are the best thing that happened to me.”

“I am?”

“Yeah… you are. You liked me for me from the start, you never tried to change anything just accepted me with my issues. I know I’m not the easiest person okay? I can get mean and my brain doesn’t work all the time. You let me cry after I got the news about my dad. And days when I didn’t feel like talking you covered up the silence and made me feel like I wasn’t alone.”

“You’re not — not only have both Margo _and Alice_ basically adopted you into our ragtag group but you… you’ll always have me.. You’re not alone here,” Eliot tells him gazing into his eyes.

That’s when he decides to do it — drop the facade on his own terms. So that Quentin knows that he means it.

He drops the glamour and his eyes are red again and he’s looking at Quentin.

“This is all of me — the good and the bad and my biggest truth is that I am falling for you,” Eliot admits.

“Well, that’s lucky because guess what?” Quentin asks.

“What?” “I’m falling for you too,” Quentin admits and then Eliot smiles a wide smile and closes the distance between them. It’s not as passionate as their first kiss was but it’s just as loving. Free of misunderstandings and unsaid words. There’s just love, pure and simple love.

“By the way, I think your eyes are like seriously hot,” Quentin admits with a smirk

“Oh do you now?”

“I might have had a few dreams regarding them.”

“Tell me more about these dreams of yours?” Eliot smiles.

“Why don’t we head into my bedroom and I’ll just show you,” Quentin says wiggling his eyebrows and Eliot laughs.

He’s so stupidly in love with this giant nerd.

Eliot kisses him deeply as they head towards Quentin’s bedroom, Quentin works on getting Eliot’s clothes off as they head inside the room. Their clothes go on the floor and Eliot magically puts them on the chair in an orderly fashion, which Quentin rolls his eyes about.

Eliot telekinetically closes the door and then grabs Quentin’s phone and puts it on silent, doing the same with his own.

“No interruptions this time,” Eliot says before going back to kissing Quentin’s neck.

“Good because I really want to put my mouth on your dick,” Quentin smirks.

“You say the sweetest things,” Eliot smiles as they fall on top of the bed, “We have all night, I’m going to make you see stars Coldwater.”

“Shouldn’t it be hearts, you know, because you’re a cupid?”

“You’re incorrigible,” Eliot says rolling his eyes as Quentin laughs delightedly at his joke.

“Maybe but I’m yours,” Quentin says looking at Eliot.

“Yeah just like I’m yours,” Eliot says intertwining their hands and giving him a soft kiss.

They had more to talk about, and Eliot seriously needed to have a conversation with him about that coffee — wait till Margo hears about it. She’ll want to hire him to make their coffee. But that’s for another moment.

Right here at this moment, all they have is each other. Right now he’s just focused on making Quentin happy because that’s what he intends to do.

The road ahead probably won’t be simple, and they’ve both got their own fears to work through, but they’ve got each other.

For now? That’s more than enough.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked it please kudos + review! 
> 
> Hope you liked the first installment of this new universe!


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